Chapter 10: A Word Spoken in Due Season

"So, you were right..."

Carew looked at her, eyebrows raised.

"...as usual."

"Thank you."

Tara began to leave the room.

"Where are you going?"

"He's calling his boss. They'll trace the call."

"Yes, they will. Sit down."

"Why?"

"Brie..."

That halted Tara in her tracks. She turned around. "I haven't heard that name in a while."

"You have too many aliases. I'm getting too old to keep them straight. It's easier to fall back on the name I gave you."

"Even if I believed you, which I don't, that still doesn't explain you falling back on it."

"No reason, but it got your attention, didn't it?"

"Yes."

"Good. So, sit down. We're not going to stop him."

"What's to keep him from telling them where he is?"

"Nothing."

"You know, Director, I just don't follow you sometimes."

"Hence the reason I am the Director." He glanced over at her. "Think about it. You'll figure it out."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Everyone crowded around Gibbs. He had to put the phone on speaker, but he gestured for them all to shut up.

"Boss, I'm with Carew and Tara."

"Where?"

Tim's voice was filled with relief as he spoke...as he spoke! "Somewhere in Somerset. I'm not sure where."

"Why not, Probie?" Tony asked.

Tim's voice lost the relief. "Because I was riding in a car over bumpy roads with two broken legs and no painkillers, Tony. You try doing that for a few hours and see how much scenery you take in. But I have a better question. Why didn't you tell me you knew that my handler was involved?"

Everyone looked around...but Gibbs answered. "Do you think it would have been better if you had known?"

"Keeping me in the dark hasn't really worked all that well for you, has it."

There was too much truth in the accusation to deny it. "We're tracing your call, McGee. We'll come and get you."

Unexpectedly, there was a sad sigh. "No."

"What?"

"No, Boss. You can't come and get me."

"Why not?"

"I made a deal, Boss."

"A deal."

"Yes. Carew said that he'd get rid of the aphasia if I helped him."

"Yeah...and?" Tony asked.

"I made a deal, Tony. I can't back out."

"Why not?"

"If I do that, how am I any different from them?"

"That's not the reason, McGee," Gibbs said.

"Isn't it?"

"No."

"You're right. It's not."

"Do you trust them?"

"No. Of course, I don't. That would be like committing suicide."

Gibbs could hear the emotion leaving Tim's voice...the mask was returning. "McGee..."

Tim's voice broke in quickly...a warning. "Don't, Boss. Please. Don't."

"Fine."

"Think about it, Boss. There's no way Carew would have left a working phone in here if he wasn't sure that I'd use it. I'm sure we'll be moving soon. You won't get here fast enough anyway."

"The local police could," Ziva said, pointedly.

"But you're not going to call them."

"Tim..." Abby whimpered.

"Abby...it's nice to be able to say your name again. Who's there?"

"Pretty much everyone, except for Director Shephard."

"Oh. Don't call the police. Let me do this. Please."

"You tell me why, then, McGee. Tell me why I shouldn't get the local LEOs to storm that house in the next two minutes."

"Because I need this."

"Need what?"

"I need to take them down. I can't live the rest of my life wondering if they're going to find me again. Do you honestly think the CIA will keep us informed about whether or not they've been found? They won't. Carew wants me to help him get them. I don't know why me. It can't be for my physical prowess considering I can't even walk at the moment. It must be something with computers, but all I know is that I need to be here. So, don't call the police. That's not why I called."

"Then, why did you call us?"

Tim sighed again, but his voice was as emotionless as ever when he answered. "You know why. Besides, I think Carew wanted me to call you. And he knows you'll trace the call. You must know where I am right now."

Gibbs looked at Abby who nodded.

"I think he wants you along for the ride. I don't know why, but he does. Boss, this is different than before. It's not the same."

"Tell me how."

"This isn't self-sacrifice. I'm not planning on dying. This is to save me, not for me to let myself die."

Gibbs wanted to tell Tim that he didn't care whether or not he wanted to be there. He didn't care about finding his handler and her boss. He didn't care about helping Carew. He wanted to say all that, but he didn't. He didn't trust Carew, but he did trust Tim.

"Okay, McGee."

There were some muted protests. He silenced them with a look.

"Thank you, Boss."

"Do you know where you're headed next?"

"No, but I'd guess New York City. That's where this started." Tim gave a humorless laugh. "Catch me if you can." Then he hung up.

"Boss, we're not going to let him do that, right?" Tony said, earnestly.

"Yes, we are, Tony."

"What?" Ziva protested. "You are going to allow McGee to remain in the power of the CIA? Why?"

"Because he wants it that way."

"So? Who cares what he wants?"

Gibbs glared at Tony. "As his friend, you should probably care, DiNozzo."

Tony flushed and didn't answer.

Gibbs hung up the phone and headed for the elevator.

"Where are you going, Boss?"

"Somerset, DiNozzo. You coming?"

Tony and Ziva looked at each other for two seconds, then grabbed their bags and ran for the elevator, getting in just as the doors began to close.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"So...he didn't ask them to come. You mind telling me how you knew he'd do that?" Tara asked, sitting back from the monitor and staring at Carew.

"Easy. Agent McGee is an honest man."

"And?"

"You are too cynical, Tara. Honest men won't lie to save their own skins. They tell the truth as far as they can because they're honest."

"And you would know this...?" she asked, with a cynical smile.

Carew stared at the monitor. "I understand how Agent McGee thinks."

"You calling yourself an honest man?"

Carew looked away from the monitor and smiled faintly. "Think back, my dear. Have you ever known me to tell an outright lie, whether to you or to anyone else? I'll admit to being very good undercover, but that's a different matter entirely. When it comes down to it, what's the last lie you remember me telling?"

Tara thought back...over years. When she focused on Carew's face again, he was still smiling.

"See?" he said. "I may refuse to answer. I may even tell you that I'm not going to reveal everything, but I don't generally lie about it."

"Not that I know of."

"True. You'll just have to trust that I'm telling the truth when I say I'm telling the truth...the ultimate paradox." He looked back at the monitor. "There's a reason that we have that Bible passage for our motto, you know."

"Okay, so tell me why you want the NCIS people along. We have the one we need."

"Do you know how many years I spent trying to track down that group? Ten years. They were tracked down and apprehended in two months by that man," he pointed at the monitor, "and the rest of his team. They can get the job done. Besides, there's a better reason."

"What's that?"

"Trust and loyalty," Carew said. Then, he stood up. "Still, we'd best not linger. Is the secondary site up and running?"

"Of course. What do you mean?"

"So, you go and pack up our stuff...don't be too clean, will you? I'll go and get our guest."

"Dad..."

Carew stopped and turned around. His expression didn't change. "I haven't heard that name in awhile. Why now?"

"It got your attention, didn't it?" Tara returned.

"Yes, it did."

"What do you mean about trust and loyalty?"

Carew smiled. "You'll see. You've seen it already. You just need to put the pieces together. You're good at that. You'll figure it out." Then he left the room.

Tara looked after him for a few moments. Then, she looked at the monitor and shrugged.

"Off we go."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim tried not to feel the fear that had welled up when he had told Gibbs to let him stay with Carew. He had no doubt that they had been watching him. They were always watching.

"Agent McGee, glad you are up and about...and fully functional," Carew said, as he pushed the wheelchair into the room. "We have places to go."

"Why did you want me to call my team?"

"Why did you want to?" he returned.

Tim glared.

"If you knew that I wanted it, then why did you do it anyway?"

The two men stared at each other in silence.

Then, Carew smiled that irritating smile again. "I'd venture that the answers to each of those questions is the same. You called your team because you wanted to talk to someone you trusted, to let them know that you were fine. That is why I wanted you to call them."

"But not for just that reason."

"No. My reasons go further than that."

"Why?"

Carew didn't answer.

"Fine. I have a better question. Is the aphasia gone for good? Will I relapse?"

"There have been no relapses in any of the trials we ran. However, I am not the developer of the drug. I could be wrong. You would have to ask Tara."

The mention of Tara reminded Tim of what he had wondered before. "So, I was right about her."

"Yes."

"You said before, in the car, that you had put two people you trusted implicitly on that team, that only one was due to records. That means..."

Carew cut him off. His voice didn't change, but...for the first time, there was a flicker in his eyes. A dangerous flicker. "Now, Agent McGee, this is hardly the time for that conversation. We have places to go."

"What will happen to me?"

"What do you mean?"

"When I've done whatever it is that you want me to do...what will you do with me? I'm under no illusion that I could fight you off and escape. So, at least do me the courtesy of telling me what your plan is."

Carew shrugged. "Should we be successful, I'll take you back. If I'm feeling particularly malicious, I'll take you to the hospital and let the doctors ooh and aah over you and your 'miraculous' recovery. If I'm feeling generous, I'll simply take you back to your apartment...or to NCIS. Either way, you'll be free."

"If we're not successful?"

"Then, if we're lucky, we'll all only die."

Tim stared at him, revealing nothing. Carew did the same.

Tara opened the door. "We got a ping on the radar."

"Really? I'm almost disappointed," Carew said and left the room.

Tim sat on the bed. He wanted to leave a message, like he had before. He wasn't sure why. They knew where to come. They knew as much as he did...almost. One thing he hadn't admitted was how familiar this felt. How easy it was to just pretend that his friends didn't exist, that all that did exist was the job he had to do. Don't think about anything beyond the job because that only brings pain, regret. It does not bring happiness. Right now, before the job had begun, while he was alone, he didn't want to forget them. ...that was the reason for the desire to leave a message, but this time, he didn't want Carew to see it. He opened the drawer beside the table and saw the pen and paper. Carew had more than likely left them there on purpose, just to see if he would use them.

It wouldn't be much...maybe it would only confuse them. He wasn't sure, but he wanted to be able to do something without Carew knowing what it was. Tim looked around the room and found the camera. He turned away from it and began to write. He pressed down hard with the pen.

He prefaced his words with a sentence: This doesn't really mean anything. He looked at it and smiled and then wrote the rest. After he finished, he tore off the top page and stuffed it into the pocket of the pants he only now realized were different from what he'd been wearing before. Huh. Weird...and slightly disconcerting. Then, he placed the pen and paper back into the drawer. Maybe they'd find it. Maybe not, but Tim felt better for having done it. For having left a message, a connection to the people he cared about before he suppressed the emotions that would only betray him.

The door reopened. "What do you want to do?" Tara asked.

Carew didn't answer directly. "Agent McGee, it looks as though we will be taking a detour."

"On our way to New York City?"

"Yes. You were correct in your summation. However, now, we have to go. Elsewhere."

Tim could see that there was no point in trying to get more answers. Tara didn't look at him, and he had no desire to speak with her either. He got into the wheelchair and then they left the house. The car they took was not the one Tim had been in before.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

They drove for a few hours north and west...not east. This was more than a slight detour. Tim wanted to know where they were going, but neither Tara nor Carew spoke, and he got the feeling that speaking was a bad thing at the moment. So he didn't speak. He sat and thought...wondered about what they wanted him to do. He was, therefore, surprised when the car came to a sudden stop at the back of a house. Not the front, the back.

"Stay here, Agent McGee," Carew said, unnecessarily. He and Tara drew their guns and got out of the car. Tim watched them go with worry. It wasn't that he was worried about them per se, but he was worried about what might happen to him as a result. At least, that was what he told himself.

The back door burst open and a man came running out. He stopped when he saw Tim in the car. A look of disbelief crossed his face. Tim looked at him in confusion. Then, he saw Tara running out the back door as well. She had her gun trained on him, but she did not pull the trigger. He turned around and looked at her. She didn't speak.

He brought his gun up, but then Carew came around the house.

"Drop the gun, Thomas," he ordered, his voice hard. It was harder than Gibbs' voice, which was saying something. It brooked no disobedience...and Thomas didn't disobey.

He dropped the gun and put his hands in the air.

"How foolish of you, Thomas. I thought that you might at least fight back...or do a Judas and kill yourself. Well, too bad for you," Carew said and fired. Thomas dropped to the ground, a bullet between his eyes. Tim watched in shock. That man, whoever he was, had given up and Carew had shot him anyway.

Carew walked over and searched Thomas' body. He came up empty except for a cell phone. He dialed a number and then left the cell phone on the body. Tara walked up behind him and stared for a few moments. Then, the two of them walked back to the car, got in and they drove away.

Tim got the feeling that something very...personal had happened there, even if it was a murder. He didn't dare ask who Thomas was or why he had been killed.

Not right then, anyway.